


Fonder Hearts

by spyder_m



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Nude Photos, Persona 5 Scramble: The Phantom Strikers, Pining, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26026864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyder_m/pseuds/spyder_m
Summary: A collection of loosely-connected oneshots exploring Ren and Makoto's long-distance relationship between the end of P5 and the start of Scramble. Individual summaries inside.Ch. 3: Reflecting on their first night together, Makoto sends Ren a message she hopes will convey exactly just how much she misses him.
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Niijima Makoto, Kitagawa Yusuke & Niijima Makoto, Niijima Makoto & Okumura Haru, Niijima Makoto & Sakamoto Ryuji, Niijima Makoto & Sakura Futaba, Niijima Makoto & Takamaki Ann, Niijima Makoto/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 10
Kudos: 73





	1. Leaving Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was surprising that the presence of one person, particularly someone as quiet as Ren, could shift the mood so drastically. With the heavy air that surrounded the group now, it might have been difficult to believe that moments ago they had all been talking and laughing together."

The Phantom Thieves hadn't wanted Ren's departure to sting any more than necessary. Though, there was a sadness lingering in the air, they knew that if they let it wear in their faces, it would soon weigh upon him too.

That wouldn't do.

They wanted to create as many happy memories together as possible in the last moments they shared.

After all, this couldn't have been any easier on him, being shipped back to the town that had shunned him. The place where the faith his friends and family once kept in him had been so easily shaken; where not even those closest to Ren believed him innocent, no matter how vehemently he tried to argue it.

After braving the hushed whispers and disapproving glares that followed him down the halls of Shujin, Ren slowly began to find home in a lone, few people who actually cared to look beyond the nasty rumours milling around him. Somewhere that he could belong. 

And so, it was for that reason, they silently agreed to smile, despite how they may have felt inside. 

Now, as they turned back towards Tokyo; the van empty one passenger; they could finally allow that facade to slip, their dismay rising to the surface.

It was surprising that the presence of one person, particularly someone as quiet as Ren, could shift the mood so drastically. With the heavy air that surrounded the group now, it might have been difficult to believe that moments ago they had all been talking and laughing together.

Makoto could distinctly remember Lynn's soulful voice over the car radio, the faces of their friends lighting up with joy upon seeing the stretch of ocean on the outskirts of Ren's hometown. The excitement and awe in witnessing the remote beauty of the countryside, missing from Tokyo.

The moment was still vivid in Makoto’s mind, as though within reach.

As the oldest of the group, she felt particularly pressured to keep a brave face. She knew that the others were hurting and, as their former advisor, may look to her for answers. Just as it had fallen to her to break the news of Ren's imprisonment, she sought deep within herself for any words that could lift her friends' spirits.

Though, all that she could grasp at felt hollow. Nothing that could temper the ache his absence left. Her hands clenched around the steering wheel, frustrated.

Despite how Makoto may have felt about the loss of her boyfriend, she didn't want to wallow in self-pity. As her eyes flickered toward the rear-view mirror, briefly catching the other passengers, she was reminded painfully, of the important role Ren had played in each of their lives, of how his departure had likely shaken them.

Ryuji had had to say goodbye to his best friend, the first person not to see him as delinquent problem child or deem him a lost cause. Ann had lost someone key in supporting her over the course of Shiho’s recovery, who'd always encouraged her, regardless of how lofty her hopes and ambitions may have seemed at times.

Yusuke’s vacant gaze bore through the car window, the picturesque scenery bathed in setting dusk unable to capture his muse. He had already struggled in the past to find people willing to accept his eccentric behaviour. But felt particularly indebted to Ren who had offered advice to help him out of his creative slump.

For Futaba, Ren was someone who had been crucial in her recovery from the scars of her mother’s death and helping her to fulfil a promise she'd made to her before her passing. As he became closer to her and to Boss, their relationship had become something more akin to family.

And for Haru, her friendship with Joker had allowed her to take steps towards fulfilling her dreams. To make them tangible, giving her the confidence and skills to go after them. 

But, Makoto considered, of all of them, it would likely be hardest for Ren.

The former Thieves, at least, still had each other.

Outside of Morgana, Ren would be alone, returning to a town that had cruelly cast him aside the moment he stepped a toe out of line.

Makoto scowled, silently admonishing herself. This shouldn't have been hard at all. She had managed seventeen years without a boyfriend. Surely one more wouldn't hurt.

Though, in that time, her ignorance had served her well. Never having experienced a romantic relationship, Makoto had no idea what she was missing out on. Now that she'd lived such joy, it was being ripped away from her; even if only temporarily. A prospect that only served to make the sadness, the longing burn stronger.

She wondered fleetingly, by that logic, if it would have been easier to have never met Ren.

The thought was quickly pushed from her mind.

In the grand scheme of things, Makoto supposed one year wasn't much time at all. That it would pass before she knew it.

Though, in actually counting back the days, she realised it had been less than a year since she'd first met Ren; since she'd awoken to Johanna and become part of the Phantom Thieves. It was something that had become such an intrinsic part of her life, it was almost as if she couldn't recall a time before it.

She still remembered how painful it had been to lose him before.

How even after they’d meticulously prepared, even knowing that it was all part of their plan, the news of his death had struck her as unnervingly real. As if the idea that Ren could die had never existed in her conscious before, the chilling reports bringing it to life.

Their brushes with danger became so routine they took begin to take for granted the gravity of the situations they were thrust into each time they entered the Metaverse.

Certainly, there were times when things looked dire, but they had always managed to pull through, often thanks to Joker's resourcefulness.

She had never entertained the possibility of one of them; let alone Joker; actually dying. His alter ego always seemed so confident and unflappable in everything he did.

It was a similar feeling to one of she carried after their romantic Christmas evening together, plunging from elation into a pit of dread as she learnt of his arrest.

Even with the effort they put into campaigning and fighting for his release, it could never quite drown out the worry that built in the back of her mind that something could go wrong. That something inside of Ren might break.

They had seen more than once how a person's psyche could become twist beyond recognition.

With no way to get in touch with him, it kept her up through the night.

His time in juvenile detention had only lasted a month. While Makoto understood this, her conscious experience had felt drastically different, the time dragging at an unbearable pace.

Though on paper one year didn't seem long, her own experience seemed to suggest otherwise.

Considering that, it had taken every fibre of strength within Makoto to drive away once they'd dropped Ren off. She was taken by the urge to cast aside any inhibitions, to close the distance between them, never knowing when she may have the chance again.

However, her mind had ultimately won out over her heart, understanding that they had their own separate lives and responsibilities to attend to. He would need to finish Highschool and she had been accepted into Tokyo University.

It would be irresponsible to let their relationship stand in the way of their future. In her case, the path towards fulfilling her dream.

Perhaps, with this new, exciting chapter in her life, she would be bogged down without enough new work and responsibility that the time would pass quickly.

At least, she hoped that would be the cause.

Ren had promised to visit over break, a vow Makoto did not doubt he would hold up. But with the change in schedule and increased workload of her University classes, Makoto feared she might not have the chance to see him.

It was a thought that had found her again, questioning the purpose of her studies.

The distance would rob them the chance to experience so many precious moments. She wanted him to be there for her birthday, Valentine's and White Day, their anniversary, to see him graduate.

A dark, insecure part of Makoto couldn't help but worry that, over time, Ren's interest would wane. That he might find himself drawn to another girl.

Makoto focused on the road ahead, lips set in a thin line. She trusted Ren, but this time apart was truly going to test them, and the strength of their bond immensely.

While Makoto had come to learn that there was no way to learn or to grow staying trapped in your comfort zone, she had only just begun growing confident to her relationship with Ren. Though at first hindered by naivety, they progressed to a point where felt comfortable initiating things. 

But now, things were regressing back to how they'd once been, and she felt inexperienced and unsure once again.

Ren had been insistent that this was not the end. That they would find a way to make things work. She admired his optimism; it gave her hope. But Makoto was unsure.

This was all new and unfamiliar to her.

The Phantom Thieves chat would likely remain active. With video calls, she could still see his face, hear his voice. Yet, Makoto suspected it wouldn’t hold a candle to physically being there with him. To resting in his arms in a cramped bed in the attic of Leblanc.

She couldn't bare to lose those last traces of his presence, wanting to relish them for the days, weeks and months to come. 

Even now she could feel the warmth of his hands resting at her shoulders as she bit down on her lip, hoping to distract from the burning settling in her eyes.

 _Don't go. Please don't go,_ the thought echoed through her head. As if reading through her eyes, he answered.

"I’m sorry, Makoto."

Ren’s grip was strong, and she savoured the touch, knowing how long it would need to last her.

"Wait for me, okay?"

With his glasses off, Ren’s steel gaze penetrated through her. His true self. The words held a raw sincerity Makoto couldn’t help but trust in. Head ducking, she nodded.

They'd followed him to the depths of the Earth, the darkest recesses of human consciousness.

If he believed there was hope for them at the other side, she had no reason to doubt.


	2. Empty Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even with the distraction of a new life and responsibilities, Makoto can't quite seem to quell her longing for Ren's company entirely. Wanting to remember the feeling of being his presence, she turns to the attic above Leblanc, where many of her closest memories with him lie.

Fortunately, it turned out, Makoto had been right. The new direction her life took upon enrolling at University was enough to distract her. At least, temporarily, keeping her mind from wandering back to thoughts of Ren.

She became wrapped up in the excitement of exploring her new campus, having only been able to cover a small sample of it during the Open Day. Tokyo University’s facilities were impressive, boasting, among other things, an extensive library that dwarfed the lone room Shujin had offered. Already Makoto found herself keen to dive into the many books it held.

It wasn't long before she was busy familiarising herself with all her different classrooms and getting accustomed to her new schedule. The hours she put into pouring over her course material, striving for the top academic position in her class. She recognised how much more difficult that would be now than at Shujin, as she was competing against some of the most elite, young minds from across the country; even the world, in some cases.

It was a challenge Makoto reveled in.

Still, despite remaining devoted to her studies, Makoto always made sure to regularly keep in touch with her friends. Ren had made it apparent that he didn’t want her to miss out on enjoying this new, important time by thinking of him. That she should make the most of all that University life offered.

Of course, Makoto would see Haru around campus often, finding time every now and then to catch up with her over coffee. Sometimes with Haru gifting Makoto crops from her latest harvest; her vegetables growing tastier each time.

Ryuji and Ann would also call upon Makoto for advice on upcoming exams, recalling that she had kept notes from all her Senior year. Whenever their schedules allowed, they would all meet up at Leblanc to study, books piled around mugs and plates of curry. Sometimes Yusuke and Futaba would even join them, having their own work to finish.

The scene was always nostalgic, offering warm peals of laughter and voices Makoto could lose herself in, rather than the absence of one figure from the booth.

Despite no longer being a student of Shujin, Makoto still felt compelled to look out for her friends, as their former senpai and Council President and ensure they achieved the fullest out of their school years. Perhaps because their companionship had brought so much joy and fresh perspective to her final year, forever changing her.

In particular, she kept up with Futaba, who had been enrolled back as a Second Year at Shujin. It was as though, with Ren gone, Makoto was filling a similar role to the one he had for Futaba. Looking out for her, helping her confront her doubts and anxieties as she slowly acclimated back into school life.

Though Makoto had no reason to be concerned about the girl’s academic standing, it pleased her to know that she was steadily making progress and gaining more confidence.

It didn’t compare, however, to Sakura-san, who kept photographs on hand of Futaba in uniform, ready for her first day back. He would routinely show them off to regulars and Futaba’s friends alike, much to his daughter’s chagrin.

Of course, with each of their unique and new-found responsibilities, the former Phantom Thieves couldn’t always meet together as a group. But, in a way, Makoto appreciated the rare opportunities to spend time with them one-on-one. It felt as though she was forging deeper, more personal connections with each of them individually.

On Sundays, it became almost tradition for her to meet with someone, wanting to have at least one day out of the week to herself, away from studying. After all, recreation and regulating one's mental wellbeing was an essential part of staying healthy.

Sometimes, Ann would invite her out to Harajuku to go shopping and out for crepes afterward; trying in vain to convince Makoto that the desert was healthy because it had strawberries and blueberries on the side.

She had joined Ryuji on occasion for sessions at Protein Junkies, or the arcade. Overjoyed to hear him enthusiastically speak about the reformation of Shujin’s track team, and how he was well on his way to an athletic scholarship.

Yusuke usually couldn't afford to go out anywhere. Even after having earned prize money for his piece "Desire and Hope", he still saw financial woes, having splurged much of it on art supplies. Still, Makoto would make time to visit and ensure that he was eating properly. After all, the occasional beef-bowls or ramen that Ryuji treated him to didn't exactly make for a balanced diet.

Most of the time, though, Yusuke seemed more interested in showing her poses or ideas he had for pieces in the hopes of getting feedback.

While Futaba would usually drag her along to Akihabara. Though she no longer needed the emotional support and was more than comfortable enough to make the trip alone, Futaba had come to realise Makoto was enjoying spending time there almost as much as she did and would snicker knowingly, whenever she caught her eyeing the latest Ryū ga Gotoku game or a nearby model motorcycle.

Still, despite the spike in her social life, the chat log Makoto kept with Ren was not as active as she had initially thought it would be. Their messages were brief and cordial; radiating an almost stiff, estranged politeness as they wished one another a good morning or asked how their classes were going.

Strangely, there seemed to have been a greater intimacy carried through the messages they had shared while he still lived in Tokyo. Perhaps as if they felt any declarations of affection made now would be akin to empty promises, knowing, for now, they couldn't follow up on or properly express them.

Mostly, Ren would send her photos, without any accompanying message. Pictures around his new school, he and Morgana walking by, or fishing at the riverbank, sampling coffee at a local cafe. A gesture that felt so innately Ren, a silent reminder that he was thinking of her. 

Whenever they came through, Makoto’s fingers would linger over her phone’s screen, torn, debating internally over whether or not to respond.

She wanted to keep in touch, worried that Ren might be lonely.

Even with his name cleared, it was possible that the horrible rumours about him still lingered and his friends and family back home still thought of him as a criminal.

Such a phenomenon wasn't uncommon. Makoto had read of several instances where individuals were falsely accused of crimes, only to be found innocent at a later point. Yet, by then, irreparable damage had already been done to their reputation. In most cases, retractions printed by the media outlets that initially reported crimes rarely drew as much attention. As far as the public was concerned, they were guilty.

But, even if he had been welcomed back with open arms, Ren still may have harboured doubt; unsure if he could truly trust any of them, knowing they had been so quick to turn on him before.

Selfishly, Makoto was afraid that any deep, meaningful conversation would make her long for something more. That the exchange would be a gateway, tempting her to call and hear his voice. That she would soon surrender to that desire to be close to him. The urge to reach out and touch him, to share in his space and the warmth of his body, knowing that she couldn't.

Ultimately, she was afraid that talking would only serve to emphasise the distance between them and remind her that there was nothing that could be done to quell the longing in her heart.

As much as she yearned to respond, Makoto pushed the temptation down, instead using the time with her friends, her new responsibilities at University as a crutch; a convenient excuse to avoid confronting that fact.

Though Makoto was thankful for the technology that could keep them in touch, there were limits to how much she could convey through text, or over the phone. She felt frustrated about being limited in her capacity to express her feelings for him, particularly after they'd reached a point, physically, where it had felt so easy and natural.

She tried to justify that she didn’t want to bother him, remembering how busy she herself had been in her third year, prepping for entrance exams, but knew, deep down, that the reasoning didn't hold much weight.

Ren had been actively reaching out to her, trying to initiate a conversation; albeit in his own, reserved way. The onus was on her to reply.

Though, if her silence had upset him, he didn't press the issue. Content in his messages remaining unanswered, he patiently carried the conversation on his own.

That is, until, one Sunday morning, when it became something Makoto could no longer ignore.

Everyone she contacted that day seemed to already have plans set. Even Eiko, who she would normally receive a reply from within moments, was surprisingly quiet.

So, Makoto was left alone in her dorm, her schedule open. The situation wasn't new to her. With all the work Sae had tended to take on before and her prior lack of social life, she had grown accustomed to often spending weekends by herself.

This, however, was slightly different.

As much as pained her to admit, Makoto knew there was no tangible reason for her to put off talking to Ren. It all came down to her own hesitance.

Stubbornly, she tried to fill the time by reading, or watching a movie, but struggled to remain focused. Her eyes would constantly flicker back toward her phone where it rested upon her nightstand.

Eventually, Makoto shut off the film, having been distracted during several, crucial points and no longer able to follow it. She clasped the offending device with perhaps more strength than necessary and slipped it into her jacket pocket, before collecting her bag and the keys to her dorm room.

She decided to make the trip to Yongen-Jaya, hoping that some of Boss' coffee might help clear her head. That, and perhaps being in Le Blanc's familiar atmosphere would satiate some of her longing for Ren's company.

Though no longer as a frequent a destination as it once had been for her, Makoto followed the path from the station unconsciously, a route that had been burnt into her memory.

Each detail of the alleyway was as vibrant and clear to her as ever. The wisps of steam carrying from the bathhouse, the drone of machines running in the Laundromat, the many passing faces she recognised, stirring a shiver at the base of her spine as she steadily ventured closer. It was one she normally tied to the anticipation, the nerves she felt whenever she visited him alone like this.

The bell chimed as she stepped through the shop's front door, greeted by the usual murmur of talking heads from the television and strong, distinct scent of coffee beans, curry and tobacco. Sakura-san stood behind the counter, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Ah, Niijima-san." He greeted with a nod. "How’s University life treating you? Not partying too much, I hope?”

Makoto smiled at Sakura-san's quip, her eyes scanning the shop for any faces she recognised outside of a few regulars.

“Good afternoon, Sakura-san. Is Futaba not here?”

Boss shook his head with a fond smile.

“Something about an anime she’s interested in premiering today. Can I fix you your usual?”

“That would be lovely. Although, I was wondering..." Makoto trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to coherently express herself to Ren's former guardian. She swallowed, steeling herself.

“Would I be able to have mine upstairs?”

Boss froze amidst meticulously setting the beans into the coffee press, looking up at her with a puzzled expression. Lip catching between her teeth, Makoto could only dip her head with a flush, struggling to meet his eyes.

She knew she was breaching something of a sensitive topic. Though he had been cold and distant toward Ren initially, over time, it was clear that Sakura-san had developed a softer, fonder affection for him.

Makoto sensed he might be somewhat reluctant for her to intrude upon the attic that had once served as Ren's bedroom, feeling a sentimental attachment to it that hadn't been there before.

Setting aside the bag of coffee beans, Boss scratched his goatee. Judging by her bashfulness, he had an idea of why Makoto wanted to suddenly go up there.

Though his former charge had never explicitly stated as such, from the late nights she'd spent in his room over Christmas and Valentine's, it was obvious that the two were in a relationship. One that, despite his abrupt return to the country, had not seen an end.

Recalling the lengths he had once foolishly gone to for his own love, Boss could understand her wish. Particularly now that their young romance was facing its first, major test; distance. It was the kind of obstacle that would challenge them and show how serious their commitment truly was.

Lowering his hand with a soft smile, Boss nodded.

“Hmm. Well, I suppose I don't see why not."

Bowing her head in gratitude, conscious of the flush still burning in her cheeks, Makoto passed the counter quickly before making her way upstairs; not wanting to prolong the rather embarrassing conversation any further than necessary.

The room seemed to have remained untouched since the day Ren had left; stripped bare of all his belongings and evidence of his life there. Even with that glaring absence, Makoto was struck almost immediately by its overwhelming, familiar comfort as she glanced around.

Every inch that her gaze touched seemed to bring a rush of precious memories. The couch she had sat on more times than she could count, the window they had gazed through late into the night, watching stars and the snowfall on a romantic Christmas evening.

Her glance lowered, catching the sheets spread neatly over Ren’s mattress; still made from the morning he had left. Folded, at the foot of the bed, was his Shujin uniform.

Makoto’s eyes were immediately drawn toward the dark fabric, surprised to find it there.

Obviously, Ren wouldn’t need it anymore. He was returning to his own school and had, understandably, left it behind. Still, she couldn't help but entertain the thought that he had kept it there specifically for her, as some small means of comfort; a treasure for her to uncover.

Shuffling towards the mattress, her fingers threaded through the fabric of his blazer, unfurling it from the pile. She swallowed, feeling her heartbeat spike as she was caught by the overwhelming sensory flood that simple motion brought. 

The smattering of thin cat hairs dusting the shoulder; his second-year badge still pinned to the lapel; an aroma of coffee that clung to the material. It was just as she had remembered, enough to wake butterflies in her chest.

Makoto's eyes darted nervously around the room, ensuring that she was definitely alone. She held the blazer against herself, taking in his scent, imagining herself locked in the warmth of his embrace once more.

Her breath hitched.

While it could compare to the feeling of being surrounded by the strength of his long arms or having his lean fingers thread gently through her hair, Makoto still relished the sensation, starved of his touch.

Wanting to ride out deeper waves of those familiar, pleasant tingles, Makoto lay down against Ren's mattress. Taking hold of his pillow, she cushioned it underneath her chin, imaging it as the weight and shape of his body beside her; remembering how perfectly it would fit against her own.

The effect was calming, a reminder of the many times before he had managed to steady her frenzied senses. It was amazing how even now the faintest trace of his presence was enough to help dispel the worry she had been carrying over the past few weeks.

They had worked through much greater obstacles before together. The threat of the Phantom Thieves' identities being exposed, the constant danger facing their lives, what might have happened to him if their plot against Akechi failed, the fate of her sister. It seemed silly for her to be hesitant about something so trivial. Particularly with Ren, someone she had already entrusted with much darker, more intimate aspects of her life with. Who had recognised and helped her harness amazing strength from deep within herself.

Turning on her side, Makoto's hand clasped for her phone, swiping back to the last message Ren had sent. It was a selfie he’d taken while walking out by what looked like a riverbank, fingers flashing a peace sign as he smiled lovingly toward the camera. The expression was so distinct and vivid, a look he’d flashed her countless times before, that she could feel a flutter of contentedness rising within her chest.

She pulled the screen closer, cradling it against herself, wanting to burn the image into her consciousness.

Noticing how much that simple, lone gesture had lifted her spirit, Makoto felt compelled to do the same for Ren. Yet, there was so much weighing on her mind that she wanted to share; unsure of where to begin.

But her eyes were growing heavy, a fog (clouding) her thoughts as she sunk down against his mattress. Unsure if she'd be able to articulate herself clearly, Makoto settled for typing out something simple, honest.

MAKOTO: I miss you.

The grip around her phone went slack as her eyes drifted closed.

...

...

...

...

FUTABA: IMAG2109.jpg

FUTABA: Aww, lookit. Isn't your girlfriend cute?

REN: Isn't that... Isn't that my blazer?

FUTABA: (¬‿¬)

REN: I don’t even know why you still have the attic bugged. It’s not like anyone goes up there.

REN: But, uh... You might want to keep this from Makoto. She'll probably just get embarrassed.

FUTABA: Oh, I will. I won't let her know anything until the time is right. It's gonna make for great blackmailing material.

FUTABA: Mwehehe.

REN: Futaba...

FUTABA: Okay, okay. Fiiiiine.

FUTABA: You saved a copy for yourself though, right? Wouldn’t want it to go completely to waste.

REN: ...

REN: A gentleman thief never tells.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking a while to get back to this, had a few other writing commitments to take care of. I'm planning to focus more on this story though, particularly with P5S due to hit the West fairly soon. Anyway, hope you enjoyed!


	3. Talk Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reflecting on their first night together, Makoto sends Ren a message she hopes will convey exactly just how much she misses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get an update out before Strikers officially drops later this week. 
> 
> This chapter contains NSFW content and likely won't be the last one too. YHBW. 
> 
> The title for it comes from a pretty cool song by E^ST.

Thankfully, Makoto's small, honest message was enough to breathe some old, familiar life into their subdued exchanges. 

Ren's response expressed his own desire to be with her again, a sweet, teasing message that left her flushing.

They were gestures Makoto recognised and felt at ease with, making her comfortable enough to continue replying earnestly. 

But, just as she had feared, the conversation escalated, going into greater detail about how much they missed one another, and the moments they would share together. The heartfelt messages only able to satiate her pining for so long. 

Still, not one to speak more than necessary, Ren would continue to send her photos occasionally; wanting to keep the conversation, their connection, consistent and steady, even if he didn't have anything particular in mind to talk about.

Makoto found it sweet, and, at times, considered returning the favour. After all, Ren hadn't seen her in months now.

In the past, particularly with Ren, Makoto felt nervous about speaking her heart and mind, choosing instead to express it through affection. Talking through each action or emotion felt stiff, almost formal, and while such a mood wasn't foreign to her; having served as Student Council President; it was an aspect of her life she did not want to bleed over into such precious, personal moments. 

With Ren holding her, offering soft, encouraging smiles, it seemed much easier and more natural to allow the call and urges of her body to guide her, letting those moments speak for themselves. 

For that reason, rather than send a simple, innocent photograph of her doing something innocuous, Makoto was considering something more intimate, more... suggestive. Something that would convey precisely how much she missed his company. 

Though, she wasn't sure of how to go about doing so. 

It wasn't often that she took photos of herself, let alone ones as risque as what she had in mind. Smiling on cue before a camera felt so forced and wooden, rather than an expression of real, genuine emotion. Most of the pictures Makoto had of herself were ones usually taken by Ren. 

Even then, with his warning, Makoto was never quite sure where to look or how she should react. The flash would usually catch her unexpectedly, mid-blink, or with her eyes widening in surprise. 

Despite her flustered protests, Ren would keep these photos for himself. Insisting, with a chuckle, that they were cute. While she knew Ren was just teasing and never did so with ill-intent, the thought still made her anxious. 

Makoto worried that she might do something wrong, failing to leave her desired impression. 

She didn't want to send him something he found cute. She wanted to show how much she yearned, physically, for his presence. Wanted to be held in his arms again, smothered by his warm, drugging kisses and to feel his body against hers. She wanted it to be something that would make his heart skip a beat and drain the air from his lungs; an effect he had had on her many times before. 

It didn't seem like an easy feat, given his often impenetrable, passive facade. But, if anything was going to break through it, this, Makoto felt, could. 

After all, for the longest time, they had never gone all the way together. Not until, the night before Ren had left, that is. 

Makoto had been nervous then too; hands adjusting the strap of her bag as she mulled over her decision. The seemingly endless train ride from Central Station to Yongen, left time for doubts to form in her mind. Yet, ultimately, Makoto was resolute in knowing that if she didn't take this chance with Ren now, she would regret it; unable to see, or be with him, again for at least a year. 

It had been awhile since the gravity of being alone with him had struck her so intensely. She had become more than comfortable in his presence, learning to take charge and initiate some of their more amorous exchanges. But now, carrying the weight of her decision, she regressed somewhat into old habits. Overthinking, wondering what the appropriate time and manner to express her desire might be. Those nagging thoughts made it difficult for her to savour the last, precious moments they were sharing. 

As the hours stretched on, she caught Ren glancing intermittently at his watch, weary of time, knowing that the last train from Yongen would be leaving soon. Makoto swallowed, knowing that she did not intend to take it. Though still not having expressed as much. 

She hoped that she might be able to distract him, hint at wanting to stay, by pulling herself deeper into his lap and deliberately dragging her thighs over his. She could taste his sharp exhale against her lips as her tongue slipped delicately into his mouth. 

Yet Ren; ever the gentleman; would catch himself and begrudgingly ease up, his kisses lingering more briefly. Makoto's lip caught between her teeth, sensing that he was about to draw away from her. That he would soon move to his feet and offer out a hand, walking with her through the backstreets of Yongen to the station, for the last time. 

Makoto shook her head, bracing her hand against his chest as she dipped him back against the mattress. Ren's head lifted, surprised, but not resistant to her touch, as Makoto straddled him. She felt his breath cut sharply against her cheek as they leant in close.

Her mouth sought his, desperately, whispering between each caress that she wanted to stay, to leave him with something that they could both remember over the coming year, something to hold onto in times of loneliness. 

Ren's eyes bulged, realising her implication. He slipped from her grasp, irises dark and unyielding as they joined hers. Makoto sensed that he longed, just as much, for this, but was weary of rushing in, doing something that they would come to regret. Smiling, her hand stroked reassuringly at his cheek as she nodded, her expression unwavering. Knowing in that moment, there was nothing she desired more. 

Despite often being the one to take charge in their relationship, Ren, for all his charm, was just as inexperienced as her. The revelation relieved Makoto somewhat, knowing that they were on equal footing, breaking into these unfamiliar boundaries together. No matter what came between them in the future, they would always be an integral part of each other's lives; their first time. 

Though that might bring with it pressure, at that point, the prospect of being intimate with Ren suddenly no longer felt daunting. Makoto wasn't afraid that she might disappoint him, or fail to live up to any past experience of his. While she wasn't entirely confident about what to do, she was reassured in knowing that they would be working together, guiding one another toward a common goal; making each other feel good. 

With any other guy, Makoto might have felt out of her depth, but she'd always melded seamlessly with Ren. Whether it was strategising or fighting together in the Metaverse. With how well they'd come to know each other, delving into this new facet of their relationship seemed easy.

The initial feeling of Ren inside her was still strange and took some adjustment, but steadily built into warm, ripples of pleasure rising up from beneath her abdomen; a sensation bolstered by the overwhelming realisation that they were now joined closer than they'd ever been before. 

It was clumsy, at times, but Ren proved adept, learning the intricacies of her body; zeroing in whenever he noticed her voice rise as he stroked a particularly sensitive part of her. Amidst the pleasurable haze flooding her consciousness, Makoto found herself impressed by Ren’s stamina and the strength in his legs as he squatted over her; making a mental note to thank Ryuji for his training sessions later. 

Eyes half-lidded, Makoto would occasionally catch sight of Ren’s face wrinkling with exertion as he tried to hold out for as long as possible. She almost had to stifle a giggle, it was cute. Each time, as if reading her mind, he would slip back inside her with such vigor, hitting her most delicate bundle of nerves, making the thought; or any tangible thought, really; quickly dissipate from her mind.

As their pace quickened, the intensity that had steadily risen would crash, abruptly, coursing through her whole body. 

Makoto would never forget how perfect that moment had been, as they lay together in the afterglow; their naked bodies caressed by the cool breeze drifting through his open window. Her head was cushioned against his chest, feeling the calming rhythm of his pulse as Ren’s lips engraved softly whispered promises against her sweat-stricken skin. 

His lean fingers reached out to brush the bangs from her eyes with languid strokes. Every so often, she would drift off to sleep under his gentle touch, only to find his eyes lovingly holding her each time she stirred awake. 

She would do anything to capture that feeling again. 

Perhaps, Makoto thought, it might be useful to ask Ann for advice. 

She was a model, and regularly posed for photoshoots. While Ann was naturally gorgeous, she always looked so confident and beautiful in the features Makoto had seen printed in magazines. The pictures of her were always tasteful and Makoto wondered if she might be able to help her carry herself with that same kind of poise. 

Surely, Makoto thought, there would be more value in her friend's advice than anything she would find searching online. 

With a nod, Makoto retrieved her phone, typing out a quick message. 

MAKOTO: Hey Ann, are you busy right now?

ANN: Not really. Just at the Underground Mall. 

ANN: What’s up Makoto?

MAKOTO: I was wondering if you might be able to help me out with something. 

.

It was no question that Makoto missed living in the apartment she shared with her sister. Especially now that Sae had taken to spending more time there; reducing her work schedule to something much more manageable. 

Though, on this occasion, there were definite advantages to having her own space. 

Makoto couldn't have even imagined doing something like this back home, knowing the risk of being caught by Sae and having to answer to her. It would have made for an uncomfortable conversation.

Though Sae had come to respect Ren and been inspired by his pursuit for justice, Makoto couldn't imagine her opinion of him would remain particularly high should she discover her little sister taking immodest photos to send to him. 

For that reason, knowing that she was alone helped to ease some of her already mounting nerves. 

Still wet from her bath, Makoto stopped briefly to examine herself in front of the mirror. 

In the past, any concern or close attention she’d paid to her body was born more so from a desire for good health than vanity. Growing up, Makoto was always conscious of her diet, making sure to eat nutritious food, and ensuring that she got regular sleep and exercise, knowing that a healthy body lent itself more readily to a clear, focused mind 

In hindsight, she was thankful for maintaining those habits, finding confidence in how it benefited her physically. Her eyes traced the smooth expanse of her stomach, the lean muscle lining her arms and legs, honed from hours of practicing strikes. 

It was a boost she desperately needed. For, even knowing that Ren loved her and remembering the adoration he had always shown her, Makoto still carried some doubts, having trouble thinking of herself as desirable. Despite her best efforts to prepare mentally, she could feel that self-consciousness resurfacing; worried that she was out of place. 

It was silly, pressure that she was placing needlessly on herself. 

She could only imagine how difficult this must have been for Ann. Dealing with the pressure of her shoots being published in magazines, scrutinised by editors and their readers. The thought alone overwhelmed Makoto, giving her a new level of respect for her friend. 

By contrast, Makoto realised that this exchange would be private, only between her and Ren, made it feel less intimidating. She was posing for an audience of one; someone who she had trusted with her life many times before. Someone she had already completely bared herself before, physically and emotionally. 

As Makoto propped herself up against her mound of cushions, trying to get the right angle, she noticed Ren's blazer from the corner of her eye, still scrunched up amongst her bedsheets. 

It had been jarring to wake alone in Leblanc's attic the evening she’d found it. Having napped with Ren in that exact spot many times before, she’d grown accustomed to finding him waiting for her whenever she woke; greeted by a soft smile or caress of his fingers through her hair. The abrupt realisation of his absence woke a cold, pang of loneliness in the pit of her chest. 

Still, engulfed by his lingering aura and warmth; the traces of his past life still tied to the room; Makoto enjoyed one of the most peaceful rests she’d had in a while. 

Though Sakura-san had not woken her, considering her request to have her coffee upstairs and the knowing glimmer in his eyes, it was obvious that he had caught her. Mortified, Makoto quickly left the cafe with a flush, Ren's uniform tucked away in her purse. 

She had since taken to sleeping with the blazer, sometimes wrapping it around Buchimaru-kun in the hopes of replicating something closer to Ren's shape and weight. But, noticing it now gave Makoto a bold thought. 

_What if she were to wear it for him?_

It could be a reminder that she was thinking of him, particularly in times of yearning and the lengths she had gone to just to feel him beside her. 

As she had heard from Ann, there was allure in hinting at and teasing parts of one's body, rather than overtly showing them. The human imagination was a powerful tool, after all. 

Retrieving Ren's turtleneck shirt from the pile, Makoto slipped it over her head, shuddering as she was again engulfed by his familiar scent. She could feel the fabric clinging tightly to the still damp patches of her skin, becoming almost translucent. The pinch of the material evoked vivid memories of Ren's hands as they grasped firmly at her hips, and the snug fit of him as he eased inside of her. 

Makoto throbbed in anticipation. It was the closest feeling she'd had to the rush of excitement on that night. Being so impossibly close to him, feeling the full, strong length of his body as it moved against her, having seen the ways it could effortlessly shift and bend before as he maneuvered his way through the Metaverse. 

The memories rushed back to her in such vivid detail. Her fingers threading through the thick tresses of his hair, seeing his bangs droop across his periphery as they darkened with sweat. The flash of his alluring wistful gaze alone was enough to make her ache. Far from the unassuming boy he usually presented himself as; he was emboldened seemingly, by the same effortlessly suave and confident personality of Joker. 

As she readied her phone, Makoto's eyes slipped closed, imagining that the fingers slipping between her legs were his; a strained, wanton cry breaking from her lips. 

.

Ren's gaze was quick to tear away from the notes spread out before him when his phone suddenly vibrated; eager for the distraction. 

He hadn’t been back home for long. While there was a comfort that came with returning to his old room, as time passed, he was slowly being reminded of the things about the country he hadn’t missed. 

Compared to Tokyo, a place made up of so many vibrant districts only a short train ride away, his hometown felt... backwater. Without his friends or part-time jobs to keep him occupied, Ren found he had a lot more time on his hands. 

Much of it he devoted toward studying, remaining determined to earn the highest possible grade and comfortably secure a place in Tokyo University; still wanting to fulfil the promise he had made to Makoto. 

But, seeing as his grades had already improved noticeably thanks to the many study sessions he’d had back in Tokyo, as well as his urge to overcome the delinquent label that shadowed him, there wasn't much point. The material he was reviewing felt as if it had been more than sufficiently drilled into him at this point. 

Stretching his arms out over his head, Ren set down his pen and shuffled over to the end table where his phone was charging. It was a tip Makoto had given him: keeping your phone out of immediate reach when studying so that it wouldn’t be a distraction. Though, it proved ineffective in this case, as Ren's concentration waned the second he heard his alerts chime; anticipating the moment he could check if it had been a message from her. 

Sure enough, his eyes brightened as Makoto's name flashed up. Ren’s thumb dragged swiftly across the screen, eager to see what she had sent. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the image that waited in their chat log. 

A photograph of Makoto, clad in nothing but his white Shujin Academy shirt...

Shutting off the device with a yelp, the phone flew from Ren’s hand with an uncharacteristic clumsiness, clattering against his bedroom floor. He winced at the sound, eyes immediately whipping towards his door. 

It was a good thing that Morgana had gotten restless while Ren was studying and went out for a walk. Still, wary of being caught, Ren quickly channelled his Third Eye, hoping that his mother hadn’t decided to check on him at that exact moment. 

Downstairs, he could only make out the soft hum of the fridge and dishwasher amidst the otherwise quiet, completely still house. He sighed, sensing she had likely gone to sleep for the night and wouldn’t be stopping by his room until the next morning.

Swallowing, Ren steadied his hand, bending down to retrieve the phone once more. He examined it between his thumb and forefinger, as if in disbelief over what he had just seen; wanting to verify that it was real. 

The image was still pulled up when Ren unlocked it, and he found himself struck just as viscerally looking at it for a second time. 

She must have just come from the bath, Ren thought, observing how the fabric clung tightly, in places, against her body. The braided band was missing from her hair, which was sleek and plastered against her neck. There were droplets of water trailing over her arms, making an alluring descent down from her clavicle. His gaze dragged over the lean, toned ridges of her abdomen. 

From the very bottom of the screen, he could make out her fingers descending toward her lap, piercing the juncture between her thighs. 

The sight was almost enough to set Ren off. Makoto dressed in his old clothes, touching herself, very obviously thinking of him. 

Her vibrant red eyes penetrated through the lense, glazed and needy as they pinned him down; an expression he’d only ever seen from her once before; on a late-night, back in his room in Tokyo.

Ren swallowed, feeling himself pulse against the fly of his jeans. He knew that Makoto had found his old uniform back at Leblanc; the photo Futaba had shared had ended up as his phone background, in fact. But, he had never expected she would use it to do something like this. 

As far as Makoto was concerned, this was his first time seeing her with it.

He jumped, almost losing grip on the phone again as it vibrated for a second time, another message from Makoto coming in. 

MAKOTO: Did you forget something? 

Ren gazed at his phone blankly, thrown by the sudden shift to such an overtly teasing message. Several seconds bled into nothing, as the message remained unanswered. Ren didn’t want to leave Makoto in suspense, particularly knowing how difficult it must have been for her to work up the courage to do this, but there was a flurry of questions stifling him, and it took some time for him to finally pin one down. 

“Are you wearing this... right now?" He typed out frantically. His hands were trembling again, hastily mistyping and shortening some of the words.

MAKOTO: Yeah.

Jerking back to his feet, Ren turned the lock on his bedroom window, pulling the blinds shut. Hopefully, he would be able to placate Morgana with a few offerings of fatty tuna should he return, indignant to find himself locked out.

Swallowing, Ren’s fingers dragged over the screen, finding Makoto’s name in his contact list and selecting the option to video call her. 

As the call rang out, his free hand began to work at the buttons on his shirt, gradually slipping it open and shirking it from his shoulders. Despite the flutter in his stomach, a devilish grin slipped across his lips. 

Two could play at this game. 


End file.
